


Love Can Be As Sharp

by DNoctiluca



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Holtzbert Week, PWP, Sensation Play, Smut, Swiss Army Knife, light Knife Play, sorry about your pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 13:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11510778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DNoctiluca/pseuds/DNoctiluca
Summary: A little inappropriate, sexy use of a Swiss Army knife.(If blades are an issue for you, then don't read this. There's no blood and nothing rapey; it's mostly just sensation play between two women who love each other.)





	Love Can Be As Sharp

**Author's Note:**

> Take note that this is rated capital-E-explicit for a reason.  
> Sorry not sorry about your pants  
> Maybe don't read this at work.
> 
> The title comes from the poem Knives by Jane Yolen. (Coming up with titles is hard, ok?)

She kept toying with the knife before they went to bed. Stood behind Erin in their kitchen and put her hand into the front pocket of her jeans for a playful grope. Her fingers landed on the Swiss army knife there, where Erin always carried it. When Erin flicked Holtz's arm away, she withdrew with the knife in her hand. 

Open, closed. Open again. Taking out each tool and folding it back into place. Twirling it with the point of the blade embedded in a callous on her thumb. 

Erin had wrinkled her nose. Asked, “Why are you doing that?” 

Holtz shrugged. “Idle hands are the devil’s only friend.” She wiggled her eyebrows and Erin rolled her eyes fondly. 

“You’re combining an idiom and a song lyric.” 

Erin poured herself a glass of water as Holtz still fiddled with the knife, her body draped on top of the breakfast bar, arms dangling, dragging the tip of the blade from each fingertip to her palm. The skin on her arms erupted into gooseflesh, fine translucent hairs standing at attention. Erin held her drink in one hand, her eyes tracking from Holtz's hand, up her arm, to the far-away look of concentration her face. 

She touched her, reading the Braille on Holtz's skin and said, “You're all shivery.” An amused observation and a question. 

In the bedroom, Holtz emptied her pockets onto the bedside table, the knife tossed there amidst coins and trash. She stripped down to her t-shirt and boxer-briefs, stripped back the blankets on the bed, and threw herself back onto the mattress. 

Erin moved back and forth across the bedroom, putting her glass of water on her bedside table, going to the bathroom to wash her face, neatly hanging up her jeans in the closet after taking them off. She undressed down to her candy-pink striped panties and pulled on a faded t-shirt, exaggerating the sway in her hips and the arch of her back as Holtz watched her. Her shirt left her bottom only half covered. She took her time finger-combing her hair in front of the mirror, smoothing the thick sheaf into a low ponytail. 

“Sexy.” Sly, narrowed eyes and a grin a mile wide on Holtz's face. 

Erin smiled softly but cut her eyes at Holtz from behind a barrier of lashes. She climbed into bed, simply looking at her girlfriend, floating with a heart lighter than air. Moments like this are among their favorites, quiet, no distractions, no responsibilities. Nothing but the two of them belonging to each other. 

Erin crawled on top of Holtz, on her hands and knees above her, above her easy smile and her hands folded behind her head. Holtz tried to reach for her but found her wrists pinned in place, braceleted by the surprising strength of Erin's slim hands. 

Soft kisses grew deeper and harder and the space between them evaporated until they were pressed tight without a breath of air between them, joined in a panting rhythm, a backbeat of blood pounding through flesh and bone. 

Erin allowed Holtz to squirm out of her grip. She sat up on top of the smaller woman, rolling her hips deeply against her. Her hands slid under Holtz's t-shirt and she dragged her nails from the underside of her breasts down to the waistband of her underwear. Holtz groaned and shuddered, her nipples hardening into peaks and protruding through thin cotton. 

When there was no further movement from Erin, Holtz looked up and got lost in bottomless blue-black eyes. Her breath lodged in her throat as Erin held her gaze and reached behind herself. Fingernails scraped up the length of Holtz’s inner thigh to her crotch. 

Erin always took perverse pleasure in slipping her hand through the opening at the front of Holtz’s boxers to finger the soft slippery heat hidden inside. She gently combed her fingertips through coarse fleece before moving lower, catching tender, sensitive flesh then stroking slowly up and down, working gently into the crease and finding wetness pooling in the depths. 

Time slowed, syrupy thick, suspending them in amber. They rocked together, Erin’s fingers tucked between her labia, Holtz’s thumb rubbing Erin’s clit through the silky fabric of her panties. 

Too soon, Erin wrenched both of their hands away. She placed her finger in her mouth, savoring the sweet, rich taste while Holtz watched and groaned. Her fingertip tugged at her lower lip as she withdrew it, tongue flicking out suggestively. 

Holtz wriggled, desperate as a fish on a hook, her head tossed back on the pillow. 

Erin began her torturous game again, scratching Holtz everywhere she could reach from her perch atop her groin. It was gentle, just barely enough to conjure faint pink lines on the surface of her skin. Erin bent and kissed her again, a butterfly flutter, a nibble on her lower lip, a slip of tongue inside her mouth. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you.” 

Holtzmann's eyes lit up from within, and her grin was the same one that appeared when she had an idea to build a new a toy. She reached out with one hand to scrabble at the jumbled items on the bedside table. 

“Hey Errrin,” Holtz drawled, and she licked her lips. “Wanna use this?” She opened her fist, the knife resting on her palm, folded up, innocuous. 

Erin just looked at her, curious but silent and a little alarmed. Holtz held up her hand, offering up its contents. 

“Go ahead, go nuts. Don't cut me,” she clarified quickly. “I just want to... feel it.” 

Erin frowned. “I’m not going to… threaten you with it.” She was firm and decisive, a cold flip shriveling the warmth inside her belly. 

Holtz shook her head and haltingly tried to explain. She wanted only the sensation, cold metal and the burn of a sharp edge scorching her. She had an itch for a little more than the faint warm glow from Erin's fingernails, a craving for the feeling that she had teased herself with, but from Erin's hand instead of her own. 

Erin took the knife and opened the blade, turned it over and over, tested the edge and the tip on the pad of her thumb, on the heel of her hand. She already knew how sharp it was, enough to be useful but not like a razor. 

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll hurt you?” 

“Nope. You have steady hands when you’re focused. I’ve felt them in action.” 

Erin considered. Thought about the pleasure Holtz took from pushing limits, pushing herself, pushing too hard sometimes. Desire washed back over her in a rush and the decision was made. 

She grabbed a handful of Holtz’s t-shirt right at the neck and yanked hard, pulling her upright. Holtz squawked in surprise then laughed as she caught her breath. 

“Ooh, I like it, I-” She fell silent when Erin hooked the knife inside the cut-out neckline of her shirt and pulled. 

The blade parted the tissue-thin fabric with shocking speed and a sickening ripping sound. Holtz stared, open mouthed, and trembled. Erin stared back, equally shocked. The small act of reckless destruction heated her cheeks with excitement. 

“You ruined my shirt.” Holtz pouted but her eyes glittered. 

“You wanted this. Be careful what you ask for.” 

The shredded shirt left the center of Holtz’s chest bare and Erin's hand was drawn to it, pressed flat and cool between her breasts. 

“If you want me to stop, tell me.” 

A tiny nod and Holtz's body shifting below Erin in just the right way gave her all the confirmation she needed. The noisy breath that huffed out of Holtz when she was shoved down flat on her back quickened the beat of the pulse between Erin’s legs. Holtz's chest rumbled with a low, approving sound as Erin began kneading her breast, taking time to consider her options. 

How to begin? What would be too incautious or go too far? 

Erin made her choice and moved the point of the blade in a slow, gentle swoop along Holtz's bicep, testing the pressure. Her skin, speckled with scars from welding and lab incidents, reacted instantly. Pinpoint peaks taughtened around each fine hair, forming an alien landscape. A sharp inhale and a long exhale marked Holtz's approval. 

Her arousal echoed inside Erin, a siren song calling to her. She loved turning Holtz on and getting her off. That satisfaction was matched only when Holtzmann turned her thorough attention to Erin's orgasms. 

The knife hovered over Holtz’s belly then touched down, tracing an invisible line, then another, and another. Erin angled her hand and the sharp edge of the blade scraped over skin like a straight razor. Flesh reacted, muscles coiled and bunched, breath held. 

Erin paused and pushed the torn edges of Holtz's shirt aside. A sigh hissed out of her. 

“Have I ever told you that you have fantastic breasts?” Erin asked, the light in her eyes dancing. 

“Only every time you see them.” 

It was a familiar joke, a loving routine. This time Holtz's voice was barely audible, husky and faint. 

Erin laid the knife flat along the side of Holtz's breast near her armpit, making her squeak at the biting chill of the metal. The point arced down and around the curve of her breast then up to linger next to her areola. Sensitive pink skin contracted and hardened and a thrill shot down to land throbbing between Holtz's legs. She moaned, high and sharp. 

“Ok?” Erin asked. 

“Hhnnn… _Yeah._ ” Barely a breath. 

Blade rocked against skin, sharp then dull, pointed then flat. Circled around. The harmless dull back of the knife stood on edge and there was a mewl as it contacted a hard nipple, dragging over it, a strangled moan as it moved in a slow flick, back and forth. Holtz's ribcage flexed and flared, stuttering with her breath. 

Erin began repeating this treatment on the other breast and with her free hand she rolled a nipple between her fingers, a contrast of soft warmth and cool hardness. Holtz dissolved, melted into the bed, her breathing deepened. The tension coiled tight throughout her body eased and drifted to swirl in a maelstrom at her core. 

Erin slowed and then grew still and climbed off of her lover. Holtz looked up at her, a silent question. 

“Roll over.” 

“Eriiin. Touch me.” 

“Not yet. You have to wait.” She smirked down at the pink-cheeked, sweating woman below her. 

Holtz half laughed, half groaned. “Ohh, fuck you.” 

Erin tsked in faux shock. “That's rude. Maybe I'm not in the mood anymore.” 

Holtzmann flopped over with an exasperated huff, Erin's guiding hand on her hip. Settled face down, she rubbed her crotch against the bed. 

“Feeling frustrated, honey?” Erin crooned. 

Holtz growled. 

Erin smiled and kissed her shoulder blade. “Just relax.” 

Cold steel pressed a shallow dimple in soft pale skin. The cutting edge angled up and away, the pointed tip drew a white pinstripe down the column of muscle beside her spine, quickly highlighted by faint pink. Holtzmann’s toes curled and flexed, the only part of her that moved aside from the rise and fall of her breathing. Erin used more pressure on the less delicate skin of Holtz’s back and if she twitched or bucked now, she might be pricked. 

It was hypnotic, soothing, a massage that reached no further than the surface of the skin, a teasing scrape and scratch, her trust in Erin's steady hand. Even if Holtz had asked Erin to hurt her, she knew that Erin could never bring herself to do it. 

“Up.” Erin suddenly coaxed her with a light slap on the ass, giddy with the excitement that met and melded in the air between them. This position was a favorite for both of them. Arousal made Holtz slow and ungainly in a desperate march on her knees, dragging herself up to prop her bottom up in the air. 

There was a dark spot on the fabric between Holtz's legs where her arousal had soaked through. Erin shuddered as a wave of lust overtook her, her thighs clenched and mouth watering. She couldn't hold back any longer. 

She grabbed the waistband of her boxers and lifted it up, away from Holtz's skin. The knife pierced the fabric below the band and Erin allowed the dull back of the blade to rest at the apex of the cleft of her ass. Holtz gasped and restrained a twitch. 

Erin pulled on the knife, splitting the fabric open down the center to her crotch, both of them gasping at the sudden exposure. Her perfect ass and below it her flushed pink slit were framed by the oval gap in her ruined underwear. 

Erin took the blade away and traced one trembling finger between the pale hemispheres, down to the glistening wet mouth of her sex. Holtz's muscles flexed and rippled with urgent need. 

The thought that had been circling the perimeter of her mind came front and center. She wondered if it was going too far but then recalled every time outside the bedroom that Holtz had met far greater extremes with unrestrained glee and excitement. 

She covered the point of the knife with the tip of her finger. She wanted to be sure that if this went wrong it would be her, not Holtz, who got hurt. 

“Hold still,” Erin warned quietly. “You ok?” 

Holtzmann made a desperate affirmative noise. 

She cupped her ass with one hand and Holtz softened into slow deep breaths. 

Erin held her breath and stroked the cold blunt edge of the blade over Holtz's clit, back and forth, trapping the achingly erect and sensitized bud under unforgiving steel. 

The guttural groan that ripped from her throat was more animal than human. It was a struggle to keep her hips from jerking but then the knife was taken away and all of the oxygen and tension rushed out of her. 

Erin snapped the knife closed and tossed it away so it skittered and spun out across the floor and she thrust her open, unburdened hand between the soft curve of Holtz's thighs, her fingers pressed flat and motionless against her clit. 

“Do you want me to make you come?” 

“Nnngh. Please-” She grinded back onto Erin's hand, seeking the rhythmic stimulation that Erin was denying her. 

Erin was in a free-fall, dizzied by the force of Holtzmann's desire for her- for _her_ and only her. It was a privilege and a joy to fill her with this satisfaction and this yearning, to be the cause of the pleasure that poured from her. 

The ache in Erin's core grew too strong and she slipped her fingers over her own heated flesh, her hand trapped between her body and the curve of Holtz's ass. 

Holtz suddenly regained a measure of clarity. She spat out from between clenched teeth, “Don't.” 

Erin froze. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

“Don't you dare make yourself come. I want to do it.” 

“Jesus, Holtz…” 

Erin had to bite into her lower lip in order to force her hand away from her own body. All of that pent up energy needed to be grounded elsewhere. She held firmly onto Holtz's hip with her left hand, her nails marking blunt crescents into the soft skin, and thrust two fingers of her other hand deep inside Holtz in a single smooth motion. Holtz sucked in a choked gasp and quickly met Erin's rhythm. 

“God you're gorgeous. I love fucking you.” 

Holtzmann whined and shuddered. 

Erin curled on top of her so Holtz could feel the damp heat of her breath on her neck. It was time to finish the game. They were both so close to the edge that it was unbearable. 

“Holtzmann. Your cunt feels so good around my fingers.” 

She sank her teeth into the rim of Holtz's shoulder and abruptly added a third finger to her rapid, hard thrusts and Holtz crumpled, her spine bowing and hips snapping, gushing wetness, screaming wordlessly, senses spiraling out until she disintegrated and collapsed. 

She felt heavy, drugged. The room tilted and swam before her eyes. Soft, warm touches traced up and down her back. She rolled over and found Erin looking down at her, propped up on one elbow, smiling and radiant. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you. That was… wow,” Holtzmann murmured. Her ability to think coherently was returning and her mind twisted and turned with all the options to best return the favor. 

She roused herself from her post-orgasmic lethargy and sat up and stared Erin down. 

“I'm going to tear you apart, Erin.” 

Holtz pounced on her, kissing the breath out of her then backing away down her body, pushing her thighs apart, stroking and spreading Erin open with her thumbs before lowering her mouth. 

Erin threw her head back and moaned as Holtzmann made good on her promise.

**Author's Note:**

> So that's it… I wanted to write about slightly adventurous sex without it being some dark, serious, degrading thing and with minimal icky power dynamics. I only write what I know when it comes to smut. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Let me know if you like it.
> 
> I believe in equality in all things, so there might be a second chapter the other way around, if anyone is interested in that. 
> 
> BTW, a Swiss Army knife isn't a good choice because the handle is too small to provide precise control. You really want a full-sized handle for this sort of thing.
> 
> Say hello on tumblr @ dnoctiluca. I don't bite. Unless you ask very nicely.


End file.
